


All The World's A Stage

by cassthecryptid



Category: Smosh
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Underage Drinking, a lil' angst but not much im too soft, shaymien au, theater kids au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 01:23:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16651618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassthecryptid/pseuds/cassthecryptid
Summary: "we're both playing leads in this show and we have to kiss but oh god, i think you might hate me au"





	All The World's A Stage

**Author's Note:**

> ooof this took me wayyyy too long to get out. this is partially why the next chapter of CDP is gonna be a little late, but hopefully it will be worth it! this was literally the first fic i ever wrote for this fandom, but i scrapped it after writing about half and started CDP. luckily, i was smart enough to save the draft, and now i think something pretty good has come out of it. enjoy!!

"Oh shit," Shayne breathed. He was standing out the drama classroom, the cast list for the fall play inches from his face. Courtney Miller leaned against the wall next to him, her phone held limply in her hand as she scrolled through her Instagram feed.

"What? You get the lead or something?"

"Yeah," he shook his head incredulously. "One of them." She looked up at him from her phone, her eyebrows furrowing together, and her mouth curving up just slightly into a cocky smile.

"Really?" Courtney peeled herself away from the wall, shoving her phone into her pocket.

"Haven't you checked it yet?"

"No, I just assumed I'd get in." Shayne rolled his eyes as Courtney dragged her finger down the cast list, first finding her name, and then his.

Courtney was one of those theater kids who showed up to one audition freshman year and then had immediately been adopted by the director and cast. It wasn't that she didn't deserve the role, she was an amazing actress, but he'd watched her become bored of the whole process now. There was no thrill in her voice when she talked to him about the audition materials anymore, no sparkle in her eyes when she read him her lines. She still looked happy to have the part, but there was no risk for her like there'd been for him.

He still wasn't quite sure how she'd even convinced him to do this.

They'd become best friends after he'd accidentally clocked her in the face with a  _ Little Debbie's _ snack cake in second grade. For years afterward, she always gave him the same snack cake on his birthday and refused to call him anything else that  _ Little Debbie _ for the entire day. She'd always loved theater, and when they were younger, the two would put on productions of movies or cartoons that they'd watched, forcing their parents to sit through the whole thing in wicker chairs in Courtney's backyard.

In middle school, they both tried out for the show, landing Courtney the lead role and Shayne in running crew. He'd been a little disappointed at first, but ultimately came to love watching his best friend show off on stage. Ever since, the two of them had done the same thing, Courtney in the spotlight, and Shayne backstage.

It wasn't until Courtney caught him monologuing  _ Hamlet _ to her dog that anything changed. She'd been doubled over laughing as he repeated "To be or not to be!" over and over her very confused puppy, when she chucked out an idea.

"Dude, you should totally try out for the show this year!"

"What?" He’d thought that she was joking. Shayne stood from where he had been crouched next to her dog. "You're kidding, right?"

"No!" Courtney dropped down to the ground next to her dog, tossing a squeaky toy in his direction. "The show they're doing this year is super comedic and I'm sure that Matt Raub will cast you if you can make him laugh."

"Matt Raub?"

"Yeah, no one calls him Mr. Raub outside of class."

“And you think that he’d really cast me?”

“Hey, that monologue was better than half the stuff the improv club comes up with, and most of them are in theater.”

“If this all goes south I’m gonna blame you.”

“Alright," she wiped laughter tears from her eyes. "But I’ll think you’ll be surprised by the outcome.”

And so Shayne auditioned. Of course, it wasn't that easy. There were the hours practicing with Courtney, and the late night binges of bootleg recordings of the show, and the anxiety that knotted up his stomach as he tried to fall asleep the night before. He was surprised that he'd even managed to keep his lunch down as he went to stand in front of the director and the stage manager.

He'd managed to make the stage manager, a bright-haired, wide-eyed creature who he'd only known as Lasercorn, laugh, but he'd known Lasercorn, the two had worked a few shows together, and he hoped that it wasn’t just a laugh out of pity. Matt Raub on the other hand, stayed stoic throughout the whole ordeal, his finger on his lip for the entire audition.

"Oh my god." Courtney's voice brought him back to reality. She began to laugh, and Shayne turned to see what she was looking at. "Did you see who you're playing?"

"Yeah, of course I did, why are you laughing?"

"And you remember what happens in the show?" Shayne had momentarily forgotten everything when he’d seen his name was even on the list, and was now connecting the dots in his head.

"Oh no."

"Oh YES." Courtney turned back to where she was standing against the wall, tossing her head back and sliding down against it. "You're gonna have to stage kiss a guy!" She wiped her eyes from laughing so hard, dropping her voice. "Not that you wouldn't be into that." Shayne kicked her softly, which just made her laugh harder. Courtney leapt back up, dancing on the tips of her toes, her eyes wild and bright. "Who plays Emmett? Who plays Emmett?"

Shayne dragged his finger down the list, looking for the name. "Damien Haas."

"Ooooh." Courtney's eyebrows shot up, her face curving downward into a confused frown. "Really?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's kind of a theater hot-shot, but I thought he only did musicals." She weaved in front of him, and he stepped back as she looked through the list. "Huh." Courtney let out a little puff of air. "I'm surprised that Matt Raub cast him here, I thought he'd be playing Jessie for sure."

"Damien Haas. He was in  _ Fiddler _ , right?" Shayne could vaguely remember Fiddler on the Roof. It was his freshman musical, and he and Courtney had worked for hours on her lines. She had played one of Tevye's daughters, and Shayne would parade around her house dressed in blankets singing 'If I Were A Rich Man' at the top of his lungs. It was a distant memory, but he could recall standing at the corner of the curtain backstage, watching as Damien, as Motel, ran across stage singing 'Miracle of Miracles'.

"Yeah, but he hasn't really been in many shows besides the musicals. I'm surprised he even tried out for this one."

"He's a good singer, right?"

"Yeah, that's mostly it. The guy  _ won Masterclass _ last year actually."

"Masterclass?"

"Right, you're not a choir kid. It's a big classical singing competition the school does ever year. He sang  _ Nessun Dorma _ , an old as balls Italian piece, and won."

"Cool?" She nodded, and he nodded in response, trying to reassure himself. "So. I have to kiss him." Shayne looked up to Courtney, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Is he at least a nice guy?"

"No one really knows."

"What do you mean 'no one really knows'?"

"Well, he keeps to himself and doesn't really fraternize with the cast or crew. I think he dated someone a few years back, and it didn’t go well, so the theater kids don’t like him very much. Gotta stick close to your own, y’know?”

Shayne let out a breathy sigh. "This is going to be interesting."

  
  


                                                                                                                            _________________

  
  


"Shayne, pacing!" Shayne tried his best not to look at Matt Raub as he yelled out directions. Lasercorn was reading lines for the currently AWOL Damien Haas, which only added to Shayne’s nervousness. He tried to keep himself from shaking in fear, and kept moving through the script, slowing down where it said in his notes. Across the room from him, Courtney gave him a thumbs up.

They were rehearsing in the Dance Studio, blocking out the show before they would bring it to the actual stage. It had been hell so far, running through lines and nearly breaking his back every time he did a fake fall that was more real than fake.

There were twelve other actors in the room, each of them waiting patiently for their turn. He could already tell that the cast was close to one another, having worked together on shows for years. They all watched him with the same fascination, and though he knew all of them were judging him, seeing where he stacked up against everyone else, he tried to stay focused on what was happening in front of him. Shayne was glad that Courtney was there with him, but even she couldn't save him from the wolves.

They hadn't gotten this far in the script yet, and Shayne was somewhat glad that Damien wasn’t here to do the scene with him. Courtney had been right at him being a hot-shot. He seemed to infect the air around him when he spoke, leaving everyone in the room, including the other actors on stage, hanging on his every word even if they'd heard it over and over again. Shayne knew he could never top that, he'd never had that sort of presence that Damien had.

There was a sound from the other side of the room as the Dance Studio door opened, and someone hurried in. The action in the room stopped as the scene ended and everyone turned to see who had intruded.

"Haas, you are  _ very _ late." Matt Raub crossed his arms over his chest, displeased with the sheepish Damien, head ducked down as he dropped his things in the corner of the room.

"Sorry Matt Raub, German teacher made me stay after class for a make-up test."

"Well, you're lucky. You've just nearly missed your entire scene." Damien hurried out onto their makeshift stage, still flipping through the script in a nice black binder that he and most of the other seasoned theater kids used. Matt Raub settled down in his chair. "Alright, let's restart this from the top." Shayne watched as Damien drew in a breath, closing his eyes for a second, and stretched upwards. His hair, dark and thick, was tousled, like he'd spent time running his hands through it. "Action."

Damien's eyes shot open, framed by a pair of rectangular glasses. Shayne wasn't sure what color they even were, as they almost looked to be green, and brown and red at the same time. He almost missed his line after Damien gave his. "And what of it?" He felt himself say. "That was last time."

"Last time, really?" Shayne couldn't help but be distracted by the way he spoke. His voice was an endless cavern, rich, dark and soft, and filled with the threat of mystery.

The air around them was electric, whether from his nerves or the hum of the fluorescents above him, he wasn’t really sure. Shayne could feel his hands shaking as he held the script limply between his fingers.

"Last time. I assured them all it was. Nerves." He kept moving through the script. "I love her, but I can't kiss her, I just don't have it in me." Shayne had turned back to Damien.

This was the comedic part. Their characters were supposed to kiss to prove to Shayne's character that if they could kiss, he could kiss his the woman he loved. Shayne hated how that was the message, but it was something that the audience would find abrupt and shocking, and then apparently, hilarious.

"It's easy. It's just as easy as, say-" Damien made the motion to move towards him, but pulled away at the last second. He made the sound with his mouth, continuing with the script. "Doing that?"

"My god!" Shayne acted as if he'd been stunned. He paused, letting the room grow quiet, counting out just enough time to make it seem like his character was thinking. "You're right. I have to do it! I have to go after her!" The scene ends.

"That was good." Matt Raub nodded. "Needs work, but it was good." He turned to Shayne. "Shayne, pacing, you need to remember that speed isn't everything." That garnered a laugh from two of the younger actors towards the back. "Damien, perfect. Work on your turns and you'll be golden." Matt Raub addressed all of the actors. "Alright everyone, remember we want to be off book in the next week-" there's a collective groan from the cast- "no buts, you know how hard we work here, you signed up for this, and we’re all more than capable of knowing our lines.”

Shayne turned to give Damien a smile, but Damien returned a blank stare before retreating off the taped off area that acted as the stage. He watched as Damien gave a nod to Matt Raub and Lasercorn before returning to his bag, fiercely marking up his script.

They continued practicing for another half hour or so, Shayne stumbling over his words, a feeling in the pit of his stomach forming as he watched everyone else deliver perfect performances. Matt Raub let everyone out after their throats burned and their legs gave out on them. All of the actors began packing up their things, and Shayne chatted with Courtney as they packed their backpacks up to leave. Courtney went suddenly quiet, her eyes focusing on someone coming up behind him.

Shayne turned to face Damien, who stood with his bag swung over his shoulder.

"Shayne, right?" His face was neutral, and Shayne felt the nervous knot in his stomach tighten.

"Uh...Yeah."

"Your lines need work."

"Okay?"

"Fridays after school, we don't have rehearsal. Meet me here." Damien dug around in his backpack, pulling out a piece of paper and a pencil. "My number." Shayne reached out, afraid of what would happen if he didn't take it. Shayne looked down to see it written in quick, faint script. He looked back up to answer Damien, but he already turned to leave.

  
  


                                                                                                                            _________________

  
  


Shayne pushed open the door to the Dance Studio Friday afternoon. It was quiet except for the sound of faint singing. The lights weren't fully on, giving the room a dimmer vibe, one that didn't burn your retinas unlike the normal full force of the fluorescents. Shayne set his things down on top of the counter in the corner behind the door. There was a turn in the room, and Shayne edged around to corner to find Damien sitting behind the piano that had been pulled out. He plunked out a few chords, singing along with them. Courtney had been right, Damien was a good singer.

His voice was low, and rasped against his throat, and he spoke each word with a passion that made the room seem to hum with him. Shayne wanted to stand there and watch him, which he did for longer than he wanted to admit. He saw how Damien's shirt rose and fell off his back as he moved, his head bobbing along as he sung. There was a part of him that wanted to stay there in that moment, watching Damien move with such grace before-

"Stare much?"

A breath caught in Shayne's throat, his face growing red as he shuffled into the room.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to mess you up or anything-" Damien turned. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and in the light, his eyes glowed like oiled leather. "You sounded really good." The words rushed out of his mouth before he could clamp it shut.

Damien slammed the cover of the piano shut, making the hairs on Shayne's arms bristle.

"So...Um, why am I here?"

"Were you paying attention?" Shayne swallowed down the nervous lump growing in his throat. "Your lines need work."

"Do they? I couldn't tell."

"Exactly." Damien stood, smoothing his shirt. He pulled his script from the music stand on the piano, flipping through it. "Your scene with the character Emilie feels forced. Read it for me like you're performing it. I'll read everyone else’s lines."

Shayne grappled for his script as Damien gave him the starting line. "Um-"

"No ums. Your character isn't sure around _Karoline_ , not Emilie, he and Emilie are friends, he's comfortable."

This went on for a good two hours, and by the end of it, Shayne wasn't sure if he wanted to punch Damien in the face, or if he wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. It felt like he was doing everything wrong, and Damien wasn't worried about offending Shayne with his harshest criticism.

Shayne hated how perfect Damien was at all of it, how he could pick up every character like second nature and breath life into the words. It reminded him of when when he was younger, and used to try and wear his dad's boots around the house, tripping and stumbling every time he thought he was getting the hang of it.

Damien finally relented after Shayne managed to give him an acceptable performance.

"Better. You still need more work. Same time next week."

"Alright?" Shayne knew that it probably better not to argue.

Damien had already swung his backpack over his shoulder. Shayne waited, wondering if Damien would look back at him, give him a nod, anything. Instead, he simply disappeared through the door, leaving Shayne alone in the darkened room.

  
  


                                                                                                                            _________________

  
  


"I think Damien hates me." Shayne was lying across Courtney's bed as the two ran through lines.

"No," She scoffed. Courtney paused, narrowing her eyes. "You think he does?"

"I don't know." Shayne shook his head. "When we're in a scene together, there's this connection, and it’s strong in this way I can’t describe, but the moment it ends..." Courtney sat down in the chair across from him, knowing that they were probably done running lines for the rest of the night. "He drops that character, and well, I don't know what he becomes." Shayne ran a hand through his hair. "And I'm worried..."

"Worried about what?"

"I don't want to kiss someone that hates me!" Courtney raised an eyebrow. "I mean he has to hate me right? He didn't pull anyone else aside because they were terrible actors!"

"You're not a terrible actor Shayne." She flipped through the script. "You're a pretty damn funny one actually." Courtney scrunched up her nose, making her voice go all nasal. "To be or not to be!"

"Shut up Miller." He pushed her off the bed, and she tumbled to the ground, giggling the whole way. “That doesn’t help.”

"I'm just sayin', whatever Damien's whole deal is, it's not because he hates you."

 

                                                                                                                            _________________

  
  


"I hate you." Damien's voice was high pitched with an edge of a southern accent to it. "I do mean that Jonathan, you're a good for nothing sob-story of a human being."

It had been three weeks of the same thing, working through lines, moving through characters, and Shayne still hadn’t felt like he’d been improving. He’d managed to befriend a few people in the cast, but he still couldn’t get his acting to mesh the way theirs did, let alone do it well enough to impress Damien.

"I know I hurt your feelings Karoline, but I've realized, you're the only one for me." Shayne held Damien's eyes, and for a second, he thought that he might see something behind them. Damien relaxed his shoulders, pulling a pen from behind his ear and marking something in his script. The room was eerily quiet. "Notes?"

"Pacing and tone."

"Really?"

"Yes." Damien flipped back the the beginning. "Again."

"C'mon man, we've been working on this for hours. I've nailed it so many times!"

"Then it should be memorized, shouldn't it?" Shayne let out a sigh, starting the passage over again.

"Oh my dear sweetheart. I am so sorry." Shayne spoke in his most monotone voice. "How could I have ever let it come to this?" Damien's eyes burned a hole into Shayne's forehead. "Sorry." Damien let out his own sigh, setting down his script onto the top of a prop he'd dragged into the center of the Dance Studio. He began to stretch, and Shayne raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"I think I may know your problem."

"Really?" Shayne crossed his arms over his chest.

"You need to understand your character."

"I don't think that's my problem. I think my real problem is the dude with the attitude issue."

"Tell me, what is Jonathan's favorite food? Who is his inspiration? What weird mannerisms does he have?"

"How the hell would I even know what?"

"His grandmother's ravioli, his late father, and his voice, which fluctuates when he's nervous." Shayne furrowed his eyebrows at Damien.

“How do you know all of that?”

“I don’t,” Damien shrugged. "You have to invent a character around your character. You can't just take them at face value. The best actors are those who know how to understand their characters, and as a result, they feel more genuine."

"Oh. Okay." For once, what Damien was saying was starting to make sense to him. He cleared his throat as Damien flipped back through his script.

"I hate you." Shayne listened, feeling the heft of his words. "I do mean that Jonathan, you're a good for nothing sob-story of a human being."

"I-I know I hurt your feelings Karoline." Shayne pretended to take off a hat. "And I am so terribly sorry for that. But...I've-I've realized. You're the only one for me." Damien stood completely still, an expression on his face that Shayne hadn't seen before. "Was that bad?"

"No." Damien's voice was soft, like he was afraid that if he accented a word wrong something in his voice might break. Shayne felt something begin to bloom in the pit of his stomach. It was a soft flutter, one that was barely noticeable unless you'd felt for it. "That was perfect."

And in that moment, Damien stopped seeming so scary.

  
  


                                                                                                                            _________________

 

Shayne had stopped dreading Fridays.

Now he was breezing through rehearsal, and all of the cast had started to adopt him into their theater cult. Matt Raub had started giving him less direction on his character, and Shayne was loving experimenting with his character.  

They’d become friends by now, and Shayne marveled at how different Damien was in rehearsal verses when it was just them. 

Shayne had forgotten his script for a Friday practice, and instead of Damien getting angry, he’d laughed. Shayne felt terrible, of course, how could you come to a practice without your script, but he offered that they could walk to his house, which was a five-minute-jog-eight-minute-walk from the school.

The two of them had trudged along side by side, and Shayne hadn’t laughed harder than he had on that walk with Damien.

“Do you think geese have feelings?”

“What?”

“Well, do you?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that you’re a son of a goose for saying that.”

“So if I’m a son of a goose and  _ I  _ have feelings, then geese do have feelings.”

“ _ Do _ you have feelings?”

“Shut up Shayne.”

Shayne had said hi to his mom before tossing his backpack on the front entrance hall and leading Damien to the basement.

They’d practiced for about a half hour before Damien got distracted by a game on Shayne’s shelf.

“Woah, Nidhogg! Do you play?”

“Yeah, I’ve only held the title of Nidhogg champion in my family four years running.”

“Hmm, we’ll have to see if I can steal that, won’t we?”

“Is that a challenge?”

“What do you think?” The mockingly gruff tone in Damien’s voice made Shayne go red.

“You’re on!” He leapt up, turning the tv on and preparing to crush Damien into the ground.

 

Oh how wrong he was. Damien was too good at Nidhogg, like  _ crazy _ good.

“C’mon!” Shayne nearly snapped his controller in half as Damien’s character killed his again and again.

“Oooh,” Damien crooned. “Does your controller smell?” He crossed into the final screen. “Little baby bumpis whose controller smells like a butt?” 

“W-hat?” Shayne couldn’t stop himself from laughing. 

“Does it Shayne? Does it smell?” 

The two of them kept playing until it was dark outside and Damien had to head home. He’d left his car in the parking lot, thinking that they’d be back before then, so Shayne walked with him. In the darkness, Damien looked tired, but there was a smile on his face as he teased Shayne about their rounds of Nidhogg. 

Damien offered to drive him back, but Shayne declined. He claimed that he was in need of some fresh air and the kiss of moonlight. Damien grumbled something about him being a  _ ‘damn poet _ ’ sarcastically before climbing into the car and driving away.

Shayne let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. He was alone in the parking lot and still thinking about Damien. He was still thinking about the show and all the work that needed to be done, and most of all, he couldn’t get the kiss off of his mind.

The show was quickly approaching, and Shayne and Damien still hadn't rehearsed the actual kiss yet. Whenever they reached it, they always faked, promising Matt Raub that they would do it off the cuff during the show, catching each other and the audience off guard. Damien had suggested it to Matt Raub in the first place, and the director had just run with it.

It caught Shayne by surprise. Damien, up to that point, had seemed like the kind of person that practiced everything until he could do it backwards and forwards. Shayne decided to dismiss it, knowing that Damien probably knew better anyway. It still stuck with him. The thought of kissing Damien had started to invade his life. He kept imagining it, would it be soft and light? Or would it be a quick peck?

More importantly, what if he liked it more than he should?                        

 

                                                                                                                            _________________

  
  


Shayne tossed his things down onto the ground, flipping on the lights in the Dance Studio. He was alone for now, and pulled out his script, setting it on top of the piano. He stretched his hands up above his head, letting his back crack as he did so, Shayne rolled his neck around, trying to work out any cricks. He faced himself in the mirror that lined the front half of the studio, pulling his arms into the position as if he were to start dancing. Shayne sprung across the room like a ballet dancer, light on his feet. He tried to keep himself from laughing as he looked back at his stern face in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" Shayne spun, still holding his arms up as if he was going to launch into a complicated dance routine. Damien stood in the doorway, glasses half on his face, his hair a mess.

"Iee aem praektiscing." Shayne replied in a thick Russian accent. "Iee aem de Preema Ballereena." 

He watched a whole range of emotions flicker across Damien’s face before the other boy did something he didn’t expect. Damien dropped his things, flicking his head up and down like he were an overly exaggerated anime character.

"And Iee aem eyour pardneer." He held out a hand to Shayne. Damien narrowed his eyes, his nose squished up, thinking of a name. " _ Jahck-ove-ee. _ " Shayne took his hands, the knots beginning to tighten in his stomach.

They danced across the room, probably looking like idiots, grinning from ear to ear. "Fasteer Jahck-ove-ee!" They spun around and around, but it wasn't that that made Shayne dizzy. It was Damien's eyes as they crinkled up into a smile.

They fell into each other, both laughing at the top of their lungs. Damien wasn't quick to move away from him, and Shayne could feel the heat of Damien's hand against his. Shayne leapt up, rushing into a line of dialogue.

"Have at thee scoundrel!"

"Avast!" Damien cried from the ground, falling into a fit of giggles. Shayne's heart was beating out of his chest. He waited for Damien to give him the next line, but it didn't come.

Damien stared at him for a second, his eyes bright and wild as his chest rose and fell from laughing so hard. Shayne’s head was on fire as Damien lay on the floor beneath him. His legs threatened to give out, to fall into Damien, whose arms would be there to hold him up when he did.

_ Damn it _ .

It was impossible not to fall in love with someone like Damien.

Shayne hated ignoring his feelings. But there was a storm in his stomach that roared whenever he saw Damien, one that sent goosebumps up his arms whenever he caught the tail end of a smile directed at him. It was bright and flashy, and it never seemed to end, always threatening to rain and let his heart through, but never quite getting to that point..

Most of all, Shayne hated how he much he wanted to run his fingers through Damien's hair. How much he wanted to kiss him, letting their lips pulse together, light and clumsy like dandelions bumping lazily together from the slightest breeze.

 

                                                                                                                            _________________

 

"What’s been up with you and Damien lately?"

The question caught him off guard.

They were standing outside of a Dairy Queen, ice cream dripping all over their hands, but they were both too lazy to get napkins, and let the liquid drip down their wrists. Shayne had been mid-bite of his dipped cone as the two rounded the corner of the little shack to sit at one of the sticky blue plastic tables. The sun had started to set behind the lines of trees behind the parking lot, casting long orange shadows across the blacktop.

"What do you mean by that?” Shayne sat down at the table, wiping his hand off on his pants.

“I dunno,” she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re spending a lot of time with him.”

“Just Fridays.” Shayne bit his lip. “And that one Tuesday, and those two Sundays…”

“Are you guys  _ really _ just working on lines?”

“Well, we work on blocking and-“

“Shayne Topp, you know what I mean.”

“What else would we be doing?”

“Y’know,” Courtney wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. She gestured with her hand in a sweeping motion. He flicked a piece of balled up napkin at her face, but missed, making it skid across the table.

"We're just friends." Shayne pretended to be fascinated with his ice cream. He looked back up at Courtney, who had an eyebrow raised, a familiar smirk on her face as she crossed her arms across her chest. "What? Damien's a good dude, and he's actually pretty nice when you get to know him." 

"And you two are only friends?" 

"Yeah." 

"Hmm, guess I was wrong."

"About what?" The words came out of his mouth too fast, and he shifted in his seat, speaking again. "What were you wrong about?"

“I don’t even really know.” She took a bite out of the top of her ice cream. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“You look at him in this way that I haven’t seen you look at anyone else.” Shayne felt his face grow red. “I’d wondered if that was because you’ve become such good friends so quickly, or if it was something else…”

There was a moment of quiet before Shayne’s voice, barely stirring for his throat, broke it. “Was I really that obvious?”

Courtney’s face broke into a smile. “Course you were bud. You’ve never really felt like this before, have you?”

“It’s a first.” 

Courtney paused, thinking for a second, not quite meeting his eyes. “What does it feel like?”

Shayne thought for a moment before answering. “Like there’s this storm in the pit of my stomach, but it’s the kind of storm that always threatens to rain but never does. You can hear the lightning and the thunder, and the sky gets to be that color that makes you worry just a little, but it never pours.”

“That was pretty,” Courtney smiled. 

“Thanks, I’m here all week,” he joked. There was a brief silence before he let out what had been nagging at him for weeks. “I’m kinda scared Court’.” 

“About what?” 

“About all of this, what if...what if I lose him?”

“You think you are?” 

“I dunno, what if we kiss during the show, and he realizes that I was more into it that he was, and he freaks out and doesn’t talk to me anymore?” 

“He’s not gonna do that.”

“But what if he does?” A drop of ice cream ran down his wrist and fell onto the table, but Shayne didn’t move to wipe it away. 

“Then you move on.” Her voice was clean and clear. Shayne looked up at her, furrowing his eyebrows.

“That was surprisingly mature of you.” 

That made her smile. “We’re almost adults, we’re going to need to learn to cope like the sooner or later.” 

“Oof, I’m not ready to adult.”

“Neither am I,” Courtney sighed. “For now, let’s just live in the moment. We’ll stop caring about crushes or school or the terrifying deadline of the show creeping up around the corner, and we’ll just focus on this ice cream.”

“I like that plan.” Shayne licked the ice cream dripping off his hand, his heart a little less heavy than it had been before. 

 

                                                                                                                            _________________

 

The theater kids were a rowdier bunch than he’d realized.

It was the last rehearsal before the show, and all of them were itching to get out and loosen up after all of the practice that had gone into perfecting their performances. They had all piled into their cars, freshman and sophomores and the few juniors who couldn’t drive squeezing into the cars of the seniors and juniors that were brave enough to bring theirs to school.

Tonight, Shayne was one of those people. His parents knew that he was going out with friends, and they had wanted to make sure that he would be able to get home safe, and his mom had given him her car, making him promise that he wouldn't drive more than one person. But she wasn't here and several people had already claimed his car for driving.

They all tumbled out of the school in the dark, each calling out who wanted to sit in whose car, or who called shotgun in which car, or lecturing that  _ no Lasercorn you can’t ride on the roof _ . Shayne tried to make out shapes in the darkness, but the school’s parking lot lights were shit, and it was impossible to tell who was where or who was doing what, or even remember who was going home.

Mari Takahashi, (who was playing Karoline opposite him), Joshua Ovenshire, who went by Joven, (playing Samuel), and Lasercorn, the crazy-eyed stage manager, had squeezed into the far back of his mom’s Honda Pilot, and were now arguing over who had played the best Batman. Courtney and two of her longtime theater friends, Boze and Olivia, were buckled into the seats behind him, and they were giggling about an photo on Courtney’s phone, which, if Shayne had heard correctly, was a photoshopped photo of Matt Raub in a bright orange bee costume.

He heard someone open the door to the passenger side, and assumed that it was Noah or Keith coming in after being kicked out of someone else’s car, but instead he was greeted by Damien buckling himself into the car.

A breath caught in his throat, but he told himself that it was because Damien had caught him off guard, and not because he looked beautiful in the dim light of the car.

“Hey,” Damien voice was soft.

“Hey.” Shayne felt his voice catch. “I thought that you didn’t come to these things.”

Damien looked straight ahead, a smile brushing across his face. “And I thought, what the hell, why not give it a shot for once?” He turned back towards Shayne, his gaze glowed under the golden fluorescent hue of the car lights. “I’m only gonna get this experience once right?”

“Yeah-“

“Hey we’re all buckled in, can we get this show on the road already?” A voice from the back, Shayne wasn’t sure whose, piped up.

Shayne turned the car on, plugging in his phone and mapping out the grocery store that they’d agreed to all meet at to buy celebratory pie. After several shushings met with louder conversation, Shayne pulled his car into the parking lot next to the car of one of the other seniors. The all attacked the store full force, grabbing a cart and tossing in pies and oreos and a bag of candy for that one senior who had that had dyed his hair silver for his part on a dare.

One of the actors broke off from the pack, and tossed a enough liquor to drown a small town into cart. They all judged which of them looked the oldest, and decided on a short lanky guy who was still in full make-up to make him look like an old man. One flash of a fake ID and 53 dollars and 76 cents of pooled money later, and they were carrying back two bags of snacks and a bag full of the cheapest booze money could buy.

A techie named Tanner punched directions into each of their phones, and they set course for a cabin on a lake thirty minutes outside of town. The car went silent for once as each of the passengers took turns lying to their parents about where they were going. He was Courtney’s alibi, and Courtney was the alibi for a whole slew of other people. Shayne waited for Damien to call someone, but the boy next to him simply turned up the radio when the final passenger in the back told their parents goodnight.

They all yelled along to the radio until they were scolded by Damien, who lectured them about faults in ruining their voices just before a show. Lasercorn then proceeded to shout that he didn't apply to any arbitrary actor rules and demanded that the hand him to aux cord so that he could blast  _ Africa by Toto _ and scream along to the lyrics. It wasn't long before everyone else was singing along, but this time at a decent volume. 

Shayne pulled off the road and into the long driveway to the cabin after nearly 5 and a half plays of Africa by Toto. The headlights of the car illuminated the branches of the trees as they whizzed by, and Shayne put the car in park after he pulled into a parking spot next to the other cars that had already arrived. 

He could remember walking up the steps, and holding the door open for Damien. He also remembered the excited shouts of everyone else in the house as a red cup was pushed into his hands and he was shoved towards a table that was set up for beer pong. 

Somebody yelled something about teams of two, and he was pushed every which way before a hand grasped around his arm. It held him firm as he turned around, coming face to face with Damien. 

"Shall we?" His voice tasted like cinnamon, and Shayne couldn't say no.

It turned out that Shayne sucked at beer pong. 

By the end of the game, Shayne was completely drunk. Technically he'd been drunk after his first cup, but he'd decided to pretend that it was his third cup that tipped him over the edge. His head was fuzzy, and hummed like tv static, but he was so warm. His face was warm, his stomach was warm, and after seeing Damien smile as he chugged that seventh cup of beer, his heart was warm too.

Maybe he was too warm. The outside was cold. It was perfect.

Shayne stumbled out of the back door to the cabin. He skipped down the hill to the dock that sat on the lake, running out to the very end and plopping down. The stars looked so beautiful reflected in the lake, their twinkling opalescence grinning back at him from the water. He couldn't help but smile back at them as he pulled off his socks and dipped his toes into the lake.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there before he heard someone come up from behind him. Shayne turned, thinking it might be Courtney, ready to tell him about all of the people who were making out in the bathroom. Instead it was Damien, his hair a fluffy mess, and his hands in his pockets. The moonlight glowed on his shirt, and Shayne could see the stars in his eyes, and they were so much more beautiful there than the water. 

"How're you doing buddy?"

"Hi." Shayne's voice felt like it was trapped in his throat. Damien was too pretty.

"How much did you drink?"

"Hi," his voice was louder this time. 

"So, a lot?" 

Shayne grinned, nodding happily.

Damien sat down next to him on the dock, pulling off his shoes and socks and dipping his feet into the water. He sat, staring out into the lake, his hands holding him up as he leaned back. Shayne did the same, breathing in the night air as he sat back. Their fingers were an inch apart. It took everything in his not to move his hand and bridge that gap. 

"I haven't been to one of these in so long," Damien breathed. "It's a lot different that I remembered."

"I've never been to one of these," Shayne's voice was louder than he'd meant to to be. He dropped his voice down a little. "It's fun."

"If drinking an absurd amount of alcohol can be considered fun."

"Have you had any?" Shayne smiled dreamily. "It's wonderful after it stops tasting like burnt bread." 

"A little, but I'm more buzzed than drunk off my ass like you." 

"Lucky, lucky, lucky," Shayne sung to himself.

"You are  _ really _ hammered, aren't you?"

"Maaaaaybe." Shayne shifted his body towards Damien, who did the same. He felt a burst of courage bubble up in his throat that he knew was more likely vomit than courage, but he swallowed it down and smiled at Damien. "Thanks." 

"For what?"

"For making me act good." 

"Normally I'd correct your grammar, but I'm a little tipsy and you're probably not going to remember this tomorrow, so I'll let it slide." Damien paused for a second. "You're welcome, anyways. Besides, I realized that that was kind of a dick move."

"Yeah I thought that you were  _ pret-ty _ intimidating, but like, in a hot way." Shayne felt his face shoot up bright red as soon as he'd said it. He added, "like a cowboy in one of those movies, blam, blam, with the guns."

"Really?" Damien raised an eyebrow. "You thought that?" 

"Yeah," Shayne felt his stomach start to churn with drunken butterflies. "You're really...really pretty."

Damien's face grew pink under the moon, but he didn't pull away. In fact, he was moving closer. Wait, was he? Shayne's vision made it look like Damien was glowing like some sort of angel. Hell he was an angel by Shayne's standards.

His eyes were watching Shayne's lips.  _ Oh shit, does he want to kiss me _ ?  _ Or did I say something stupid and he's trying to make sure that it came from my mouth?  _  Shayne could feel Damien's breath on his lips. Their noses were close enough to touch.

For a second, he felt their lips brush. Damien smelled like aftershave and beer, and it was the best thing that Shayne had ever breathed in. 

Then Damien pulled away, looking mortified. 

"Oh no." Shayne's voice was leaving him. "Oh no." 

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Every word cut into Shayne’s skin. “I...I have to go.” 

If Shayne’s head hadn’t felt like it was filled with cotton, he would’ve leapt up after Damien, but he felt rooted to the spot, his toes forever frozen in the water. 

He looked out into the water for just a second, cursing the stars and their beauty. When he looked back, Damien was gone.

 

                                                                                                                            _________________

  
  


"Ten minutes until showtime people!" Lazercorn shouted orders at the cast and crew, who were all jumbled about, no one was prepared. As most opening nights went, everything was chaos. Someone had ripped their clothes already, three props were either broken, missing, or broken and missing, and one of the spotlights had managed to puncture one of the color filters, and was now scrambling to find a replacement.

Shayne hadn't had time to worry about the show. He'd been too busy thinking about what had happened the week before. Shayne hadn't spoken to Damien since the kiss. Hell, they hadn't even spoken at all. 

He and Courtney sat in full costume and makeup backstage, readying themselves for the opening scene. His fake mustache was itchy, and he was glad that it got ripped off in the second scene. Courtney swung her legs back and forth, her dress, with its fluffy white petticoat and blue fabric, churned like boiling water. 

Damien walked through the entrance to the stage, playing with the cuffs of his suit, which was the same dark black one with a thin blue tie he’d worn in dress rehearsal. The tie that Shayne had taught him to do. Shayne looked away, letting out a puff of air from his left cheek. Courtney squeezed his hand when she noticed Damien there, letting him turn towards her to disappear the best he could.

"C'mon people, we're still missing things." Lasercorn cut past Damien, nearly knocking him over. Damien managed to compose himself, catching Shayne's eye. Shayne snapped his head back to the ground before looking over to Courtney.

"Three performances." He whispered to her. "Three times I have to kiss him."

"You'll be alright." She brushed a lock of hair out of his face in a motherly way. "And I'll be here with you."

The overture started up, meaning the show was getting into the last stages of beginning. Shayne and Courtney stood, making their way to the wings of the stage, preparing for their entrances. Damien stood not to far from them. He was fiddling with something, a piece of paper or something. He folded it and unfolded it, his fingers shaking as he pushed it back into his pocket. Must've been some good luck charm. Shayne wished he had one of those right now.

"Places." Lasercorn was working his way around backstage, the head-set half on his head and his hair more a mess than normal.

Shayne drew in a breath as he and Courtney stood to hide behind the wings. He watched as a costumer ran in with the fixed piece of clothing, a defeated techie held a few props, handing them out to actors with a stern tongue, and the spotlights flipped through their new colors, high fiving one another as Lasercorn let out a small sigh. Things were coming together, but not entirely how Shayne had expected.

The curtain rose and Shayne took to the stage. 

It was a nerve racking first half as everyone tried desperately not to forget anything. Inevitably, someone nearly missed their entrance, and a costume change was almost botched, but Shayne was surpised to find that he never missed a beat in his acting. Even in his scenes with Damien, even with look in his eyes, Shayne was able to move through it like it was nothing. 

It was intermission that got him. 

The anxiety rolled down his back in waves. It rocked his stomach like a boat on the sea. He wiped his hands, which were shaking with cold sweat, again and again on his pants, but nothing he did could calm his nerves. 

Courtney had an elaborate costume change, so the backstage was empty except for a few techs setting up for act two. Shayne stood alone in the wings, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt. He could feel someone watching him, but he didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to embarrass himself more than he already had. 

Shayne crossed through the pit to the other side of the stage, sneaking in before some techies carrying a platform that was stowed down there during the second act so that he wouldn't be followed. He stepped out onto the other side, seeing Damien talking with Lasercorn and one of the other techs. 

Then the noise from the audience crescendoed as the room refilled, and the lights began to dim again as he could hear Lasercorn call places. Shayne could barely breath, and he was terrified that he might collapse on the spot. 

Scenes ticked by like minutes on a clock, his heart pounding like thunder in his chest, threatening to burst. Lights flashed and time spun, but Shayne stayed with the script. No matter what was happening in his head, the stage was more important.

Then he heard those words and nearly fell apart. 

"And what of it?" He felt himself say. "That was last time."

"Last time, really?" Damien’s words were strained. There was an emotion to them that Shayne knew wasn’t there before. His voice was still endless, but it sounded hurt. 

Huh. He’d never really thought about what exactly Damien had chosen to portray his character as in this scene. Shayne had been so worried about messing up then that he hadn’t taken the moment to really listen to Damien in this moment. Because he realized that Damien’s voice was no different than it had ever been before, Shayne just hadn’t heard this side to it. He hadn’t listened for it, but it had been there. 

The air around them was electric, Shayne could feel his hands shaking from it.

"Last time. I assured them all it was. Nerves." He kept moving through the dialogue. "I...I love her, but I can't, I can’t bring myself to kiss her, I just don't have it in me." Shayne had turned back to Damien.

"It's easy. It's just as easy as, say-"

Then it happened. Shayne had turned away, but Damien had caught his hand, holding his face as he planted the kiss full on his lips. He knew that the audience had reacted, but he felt this numbness, like his brain had stopped working for just a second, and he could only feel Damien’s heartbeat in his fingertips. 

It was abrupt, it was a stage kiss, it shouldn’t have been any different, but Damien held him there for a second longer than he was supposed to. The look in his eyes was different than the look he’d had the night before. They had both been looks of regret, but this one was tinged with something else. Shayne thought for a second that it looked like hope. 

"Doing that?" The words brought him back to reality. 

"My god!" Shayne acted as if he'd been stunned. He paused, letting the room grow quiet, counting out just enough time to make it seem like his character was thinking. "You're right.” He felt himself laugh. “My god you’re right! I have to do it! I have to go after her!" The scene ended and Shayne exited stage right, his face on fire as Damien stayed on stage to talk with another character.

He started to walk faster, pushing past others and out into the hallway adjacent to the theater. He was running now, and he didn’t stop until he was halfway across the school. Shayne’s stomach threatened to tip out his dinner, but he managed to keep it down.

It wasn’t until his heartbeat had returned to normal that he realized that Damien had pushed something into his hand. 

It was the same piece of paper he’d seen earlier. 

And in Damien's neat, faint script was the following message:

 

_ Shayne, _

_ I think you got me wrong that night. I was afraid of what I’d done because I didn’t want to make a mistake and get the wrong message. If you meant to do what you did that night at the cabin, then meet me where we always go, after the show. _

__ Damien _ _

 

 

The storm in his stomach had started to get darker, the clouds heavy with rain. He didn’t know if he could wait that long.

 

Bows too forever and a day. Everyone held each other as they lifted hands in a final bow, the audience hooting and hollering as the curtain fell. 

Shayne could barely breath as he changed out of his costume. Courtney had grinned when he showed her the message, squeezing his hand as she helped him clean up his things. 

His heart was threatening to leap out of his chest 

He packed up all of his stuff, trying to keep himself from running to the Dance Studio. Shayne pulled the door open, finding Damien standing in the middle of it, pacing as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Hi,” Shayne could feel his throat closing up. 

“Hey.” Damien’s eyes were warm like honey underneath the lights. He let out a sigh. “Shayne, I am so, so, so sorry.” Damien looked up, his expression was one of remorse. There was a moment of soft silence. “Is it alright if I just kinda, say something?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Kissing you on the dock was the best thing I have ever done.” Shayne felt his heart nearly burst in his chest. “But I thought that you were confused and way too drunk to be kissing me, and I didn’t want to take advantage of you, and feelings are just so confusing, and I’m rambling, so maybe just stop me, but I got scared and I ran because that’s what I do and-”

Shayne crossed the room and what felt like a single step. 

"It's okay." They were so close now. Shayne could reach out and touch Damien's face if he wanted to. 

"I was just worried that you might've thought that I was someone else, and that you would hate me-"

"No." Shayne stopped Damien short. "There's no one else that could ever compare to you. And if you're okay with it, I think I want to kiss you again."

"You think?"

"I know."

"Then do it."

And then his hands were on Damien’s face, and he was kissing the boy in front of him. 

And then the boy in front of him was kissing him back. His hands were in Shayne’s hair, and his lips felt like rose petals. 

And the storm in his stomach started to pour.

And Shayne didn’t care because he was kissing the most beautiful boy in the world, and the most beautiful boy in the world was kissing him back. 


End file.
